Charm School
by night.drive
Summary: Ginny Weasley finds herself trying to navigate the strange and confusing traditions of pureblood society in Narcissa Malfoy's Charm School, where she encounters catty girls, a meticulous teacher, and worst of all, Draco Malfoy. Will she come out on top or be defeated? CH. 2 POSTED.
1. Decisions

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own anything here that looks familiar. J.K. Rowling & all those other companies do. A girl can dream.

**A/N: **Okay, I swear this story won't take 8 years to complete. I don't have school anymore to distract me (lol), so I def. have way more time! Please R&R - feedback is seriously helpful. Or if you wanna be beta - I'm in need of one!

**one. decisions.**

It was an ugly day like no other, the dark gray clouds clashing against each other. The rain was pouring down in heavy sheets as thunder light the sky. The countryside looked dull and dark as Ginny Weasley looked at it through sullen eyes from inside the carriage window.

Or so it was in the mind of the resigned redhead. It was actually a surprisingly sunny morning, a scant few clouds floating by lazily in the tranquil blue sky. The rolling hills that moved alongside the ride were green and expansive, just waiting to be run through. Ginny couldn't even enjoy the lovely Wiltshire countryside as the horse-drawn carriage trudged along the paved dirt path. She sank back and closed her eyes, suddenly feeling very tired as she reflected upon the situation that got her here.

* * *

"Ginny, will you be a dear and answer the door?" Her mother's voice called up from the kitchen.

"Sure, Mum!" Ginny called back, making her way towards the staircase. Her fiery ponytail bounced around as she rushed down the stairs.

Throwing the door open, the youngest Weasley was presented with an elderly man in Ministry black robes, top hat covering his balding head.

"Hello. How can I help you? My father is actually at work, sir," she greeted, deducing that this man had come to see father.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm actually here to see a…" the old man put on his spectacles and peered down at the parchment he procured from his robe pocket. "Ginevra Molly Weasley? Is she home?"

"I'm Ginevra," Ginny replied uncertainly.

"Fantastic! My name is Zacharias Patton. I am a solicitor from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," the old man's eyes twinkled. He took his top hat off, revealing a balding crown. Looking expectantly at the young woman, he asked, "Is it alright if I come in? I have an important matter to discuss with you."

"Listen, sir, if something happened at St. Mungo's, I'm still technically in the training progr…" Ginny began, panicking as each ridiculous scenario ran across her brain.

"Oh, nothing like that, ma'am!" He waved her off with a chuckle as she led him to an armchair adjacent to the sofa.

"Who was at the door, Ginny?" Molly Weasley came into the living room, wiping her hands on her apron.

"This is Mr. Patton, a solicitor from the Ministry," Ginny introduced. "And this is my mother, sir, Molly Weasley."

Shaking hands with Molly, Zacharias jumped in, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Weasley."

Pulling out an envelope from the breast pocket of his robe, he began, "As I was just beginning to explain to your daughter, I am here to bestow upon her the Last Will and Testament of Cedrella Weasley."

"Mr. Patton, I think you must be mistaken. My grandmother passed away a little over twenty years ago," Ginny stated, perplexed, shooting her mother an uncertain glance.

"Yes, yes, I know that. However, a specific stipulation in her will stated that this clause be presented prior to her granddaughter's twenty first birthday, should she have one."

A look of realization flashed upon Molly's face. "Unbelievable. She must not have updated her will before she died."

"Mum? You know about this?" Ginny was so confused. _What in the world was happening? _

"It'll all make sense once Mr. Patton explains," she patted her daughter's hand.

Zacharias cleared his throat and began, "'To my granddaughter, Ginevra Molly Weasley, I bequeath 750 Galleons from my personal trust at Gringotts Bank, so long as the guidelines stipulated below are met.'"

Ginny stared at the man as if he had sprouted another head.

"SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY GALLEONS? _SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY GALLEONS?"_ Ginny squeaked.

Who knew ol' grandmother Weasley had that much gold laying around? She couldn't even conceive what that amount looked like in her head. Her mind was blown at the notion of a large pile of gold sitting around, shining brightly, just waiting to be spent. She had never seen more than a few Galleons at a time, let alone hundreds.

"…To me? Why me?"

"Ginny, listen on," Molly chided. "You aren't just being handed this sum."

"WHO CARES? It's 750 Galleons! Imagine what I could do with that money! I could move out of Shell Cottage! I could go and visit Charlie in Romania or go to Italy or Brazil! I could send you and Dad on an amazing trip! I could…" Before she could continue, Molly shushed her daughter.

"Right," Zacharias continued. "In order to get this money, you must complete several conditions the late Mrs. Weasley has so stated. 'In order to receive this quantity, Ginevra Molly Weasley must:

Agree to participate in the debutante ball that is organized every two years by Mulieres Viginti Octo.

Complete Finishing School that is also hosted by said organization in Item One.

Complete the entire process of the debutante by having a ball in recognition of her twenty first birthday.

All of these contingencies must be met within a week of Ginevra Molly Weasley's twenty first birthday.'"

* * *

Ginny's laughter could still be heard that evening as she sat around the kitchen table for supper with her parents.

"Now, now, Gin, that's enough," Molly tried to calm her daughter. "The task at hand is really not that bad."

"Excuse me?" Ginny sputtered. She whirled around to her mother. "I AM not about to paraded around in front of sleazy, rich men and their equally abhorrent old-fashioned families! It's the twenty-first bloody century! That woman is – was – batty!"

"Ginny Weasley! You will not speak ill of the deceased under my roof!" Her mother chastised. After hearing a mutter of apology, she continued. "Your grandmother was beyond thrilled after she heard that she was finally having a granddaughter! She wanted to pass down her family traditions to her own daughter had she had one and wanted to be able to do so with you."

"So she decided that bribing me was the way to go?" Ginny huffed after a fork full of potatoes.

"Well, she was still a Black in the end," Arthur cut in quietly. "Even though my mother married a Weasley, she still cherished many of her family traditions. Almost all of the descendants of the Twenty Eight have participated in the debutante process and coming out to society."

The youngest Weasley only huffed again in response, the fire in her belly extinguishing from the guilt that was settling in.

"It's not like you two did that," She pointed out, unable to keep her mouth shut. "You eloped right out of Hogwarts."

"Gin, we were in a war during that time. There were no time for such frivolities," Molly responded.

"And _I_ have time for such frivolity? I just finished my Healer's training program a week ago, and I will be taking a full-time position in the fall."

Molly sighed. There was no getting through to a stubborn Ginny. "No one is forcing your hand in participating in all of this. Your grandmother Weasley simply wanted to be able to present her daughter to the society that she was very much still a part of even if her own family disowned her. She was still a proud woman despite the circumstances. We agree that this pureblooded elite nonsense is loony but that's what she would have wanted. It's not as if she's forcing you to marry any of these blokes."

"I don't care how much this meant to the woman. I will not be paraded around like a piece of property that's waiting to be bought by some of the most arrogant, backwards people in all of Britain!" Ginny adamantly said, as she roughly began to clear the table before stomping on each step up the stairs.

* * *

Ginny sighed as she sank onto the small twin bed in her childhood bedroom. The parchments in her paper presented her with a very strange proposition. The promise to become completely independent from her parents and move out on her own. Like all of the Weasleys, Ginny had left the nest after the War. Er, sort of. Her oldest brother Bill had offered a place to stay at his home, Shell Cottage. It was not the most ideal of places, being along the coast, but it offered Ginny a sense of independence without the cost. However, his wife, Fleur, was expecting in a matter of months, and she decided that it was finally time to move out on her own. There was no way she was going to come crawling back to her parents' house. Ginny was too proud to admit defeat.

Her brown eyes scanned the small airy pink room. She glanced at the friendly orchard outside of her cozy nook, where she had spent many hours reading, writing, and dreaming. Poster figures of the Weird Sisters and Gwenog Jones waved and winked at her. Her neat but stuffed bookcase looked dusty, having been cast aside in favor of work and adult life.

_Ugh, work, _the redhead groaned. Ginny didn't want to think about it. Her first official day as a full-fledged Healer was in a couple of months and she was not ready. Sure, she had been able to skip basic healing classes thanks to her field experience with the Order after the war, but she was still nervous. She loved that she was able to help people; mend them literally and figuratively, especially during the aftermath of the War. She had decided to take on the difficult career of a Healer in order to show everyone that Ginny Weasley could take care of herself. No one was ever going to cast her aside for fear of her safety again.

"750 Galleons." She let the number roll off of her tongue slowly as she laid back on the bed. She would be able to pay for a lovely flat for months in London, granting her easy access to St. Mungo's. But did she really want to sell her dignity, morals, and pride for money?

_What have you got to lose? _A little voice whispered in her head.

"How about everything I believe in?" Ginny snorted.

She could not stand prissy, elite organizations like the Mulieres Viginti Octo, better known as the MVO. Made up of female descendants of families deemed as the "Sacred Twenty Eight", all of the women were from old Wizarding families of pureblood status. Along with that status usually came wealth, greed, and shaky values. While they were an organization that prided itself on its pureblood status, they also spent much of their time organizing charitable events for the good of the Wizarding kind. In Ginny's eyes, it was a bunch of old biddies that had too much time on their hands who enjoyed superficialities like this.

"As if any of them knew _real_ work," She huffed, rolling over to get up. That shining heap of gold sounded better and better to Ginny. It's not like there was much to do. Spend her time attending useless sessions that taught her the ins and outs about which fork to use and how to do a proper curtsy? Easy. After learning endless medical properties of herbs, magical creatures, and more, that was a laughable challenge. Wear a pretty dress and dance around for a night? Even easier. She was so used to wearing her Apprentice Healer robes and casual clothes that that seemed almost fun. Dance with some of Wizard's elite and admittedly, some good looking fellows? Easiest. She hated to admit it, but during her breaks at the hospital she scoured a society page or two. Some of those blokes were not hard on the eyes. And when was the last time Ginny had had a date? She could not even remember.

She looked at the parchment in her hand, the dashes blinking, waiting for her wavy signature. The idea sounded better and better to her the more she thought about it. The way she saw it, she was getting a nice vacation and reprieve before she had to go back to the real world.

Getting up before she could talk herself out of it, she took a quill from her desk and quickly scrawled her name on the dotted line. Sending off the family owl with her decision, she made her way to her parents' room.

Slowly, she opened the door and cleared her throat. Her parents were in bed, Arthur setting down the newspaper in his hands, Molly putting down her glasses and the novel in hand.

Ginny fidgeted around uncomfortably in the doorway and cleared her throat. "I have decided to take Grandmother Weasley's offer," she said quietly. "However," she raised her finger and her voice. "This in no way means I am throwing my morals and values away for this money. I am merely considering this as an investment in my future… A future in which I will be helping people. So really, I'm doing everything for the ultimate good. Please let the record show for future reference."

With that, she quickly shuffled out of the door before her parents could get in a word.

* * *

And that was how Ginny Weasley found herself heading towards Malfoy Manor on a lovely day. She groaned. What_ did I sign myself up for? _Ginny couldn't help but wonder as the carriage passed through imperial iron-wrought white gates. The carriage seamlessly seeped through the entrance. Green hedges trailed along both sides of the gravel pathway. She couldn't help but marvel at the smattering of white peacocks that were strolling along the front lawn.

Malfoy Manor was an exquisite manor house that took Ginny's breath away despite whatever bad mood she was in. The Elizabethan era manor shone brightly in all its glory, the diamond-paned windows reflecting the sunshine. The front part of the estate was decorated with intricate garden sculptures and flowerbeds.

The carriage abruptly came to a halt. The door to her car opened, and she let out a weary sigh. It was too late to turn back now. Ginny slowly stepped out of the carriage, the sun blinding her eyes. Her trunk and other belongings was being levitated by House Elves that had appeared out of thin air. The expansive Manor double doors were opened wide for all those permitted. She could faintly hear the sound of water flowing, from the magnificent fountain that was in their foyer.

With a deep breath and a determined glint in her eyes, Ginny Weasley made her first steps into the throes of pureblood society.


	2. Introductions

**DISCLAIMER: **Wow, I don't know how I missed that this wasn't here before. As always anything that looks like is not mine, definitely is not! Belongs to JKR and all those affiliated with HP. The bet scene is most definitely from _She's All That_, a very cheesy '90s chick flick. Please don't come at me bros for lawsuits!

**two. introductions.**

Her eyes adjusted to the indoors and took in a magnificently stone carved fountain right in the center of the entrance hall. As Ginny looked up she could see a couple of stories above, her mind dizzying by the maze of staircases and windows. A house elf motioned to make a turn towards a darker corridor, only illuminated by the candles lining the wall. The walls were adorned with many portraits, presumably Malfoy ancestors, Ginny assumed, judging by their pale faces and the way they upturned their noses at the sight of her red hair. She sighed. Even Malfoy paintings had a hatred for her. Finally, she reached the bronze handled door that magically swung open.

There were around thirty young wizards and witches scattered about what was the Malfoy drawing room. It was ornate with its lavish decorations hanging on the dark purple walls. The bright light from the windows only served to highlight these embellishments. All of the furniture had been removed as it served as a room of entertaining for the Manors temporary tenants. Ginny grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice the house elves were circulating through the crowd. She glanced around, recognizing only a couple of faces throughout the gathering. She had seen former Hogwarts students such as Fay Dunbar and Theodore Nott, but many were complete strangers to her. As much as she tried to avoid finding him, her eyes eventually fell upon the blond crown of Draco Malfoy. She groaned. Ginny decided that it would be best to avoid Malfoy like the plague. She wanted to get through this situation as smoothly as possible and in one piece. Besides, she didn't think it was the wisest idea to hex the living daylights out of her future teacher's son.

Ginny had a begrudging respect for Narcissa Malfoy, who had helped save Harry's life during the final moments of the Battle of Hogwarts with Lord Voldemort. She understood full well the lengths the woman would go to to save her loved ones, even if her loved one was in the form of an insufferable git known as Draco Malfoy. In fact, the Malfoy family's reputation within the community had taken a turn for the more positive after the war. Though some wizards truly doubted their allegiance, many had come to terms with the fact that the family was acting just as many others had done - to save the ones that they loved at any cost. Furthermore, the Malfoys had contributed greatly to repairing Hogwarts, assisting the Ministry in the rounding up of Death Eaters post-war, and donating their time and money to various charities. Unfortunately for them, Lucius Malfoy was killed in a revenge killing after the war, but the family continued to stride on.

Just as Ginny finished the last of the contents in her goblet, Mrs. Malfoy began to make her way to the head of the crowd, standing before the handsome, baroque marble mantelpiece. She watched the tall, slim woman seamlessly glide through the younger witches and wizards. Narcissa was a very beautiful witch, acquiring her family's good looks, with her blonde hair pulled back and her blue eyes looking stern. Rather than the haughty expression many had become accustomed to seeing on Mrs. Malfoy's face, she had a more calm expression but one that still commanded attention. She tapped her wand against the mantelpiece to capture the attention of the crowd in front of her, murmuring, "_Sonorus_."

"Welcome, all of you, to the Etiquette Conservatory of the Mulieres Viginti Octo, or more affectionately known as Charm School. Here we aim to refine and polish the manners and etiquette of future generations of our esteemed community. My name is Narcissa Malfoy, and I am this year's Head of the Conservatory. It will be my duty to equip all of you with the proper training to successfully get through the Debutante Ball, your introduction to society. You may address me as Madame Malfoy. Now, before we get into the rules and regulations of the school, I will be conducting an initial inspection of each one of you," Narcissa paused, as a murmur of uncertainty went through the crowd. _An inspection? _Ginny wondered, rolling her eyes. This association took itself much too seriously.

"I will have you all separate into two groups, men and women," Narcissa indicated with her wand in two directions. Once the crowd had separated according to gender, she continued. "My assistant, Kendra Lamorak," she indicated to the woman to the left of her, armed with a clipboard and quill, "will be leading the men out of the drawing room. Please follow her directions in a kindly manner." Kendra motioned for the wizards to make their way out of the drawing room, leaving the women with Narcissa.

Narcissa walked towards the witches and quickly lined up young women into a single line, shoulder to shoulder. Ginny groaned inwardly as she was shuffled to the very end. She mentally cursed her last name for forcing her to be the last one to deal with Narcissa. One by one, Narcissa made her way to each individual, giving them a lengthy examination. Everything was scrutinized, from physical appearance to dress to posture. Narcissa's trusty sidekick Kendra eagerly wrote down everything her boss verbalized. There were many disapproving clicks of the tongue and chides heard throughout the painstaking process. She tried tune out the stress-inducing process happening further down the line as the rest of the room was in complete silence. Ginny was snapped out of her reverie when she heard Narcissa's sophisticated accent call out, "Weasley, Ginevra."

Ginny swallowed hard as Narcissa's cool blue stare gazed down at her. She braced herself for what was to come, and come it did. Nearly everything about Ginny offended the older woman. From Ginny's poor posture down to the extra piercing in her right ear was met with scrutiny. When they made notes about her clothes, she subconsciously smoothed out the non-existent creases in her dress and stood properly in her heels. She had worn the classiest black dress she had, a hand me down from Fleur. It was a couple of years old but who would know the difference? Apparently Narcissa Malfoy, who disapproved of its dated look and her matronly kitten heels.

"Her nails are satisfactory and clean but her cuticles are horrid," Narcissa shook her head at Kendra, who scribbled furiously onto her clipboard. Ginny quickly pulled back her hand from the older woman's, trying not to snatch it back so obviously.

"Miss Weasley's red hair is a rather garish shade, which is unfortunate as it is of good quality, but we can most likely dye it when the time comes," Narcissa noted. _Over my dead body, _Ginny thought angrily. Even if she herself got frustrated by her red hair, it was _her_ hair! It was a Weasley trademark and she wore it with pride.

"The freckles on her face can always be fixed by Glamour Charms. I do hope they only stop at her face," Narcissa sighed. _I'm bespeckled all over, woman._ "Miss Weasley's stature is not the most sought after but her petite frame may be desirable by some individuals," Narcissa paused as she looked over Ginny's face. "Her face is acceptable and has potential to be enhanced."

At this comment, Ginny lost it.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Ginny seethed as she crossed her arms across her chest. "I would appreciate not being reduced to being examined like a piece of livestock being put up for auction."

A wave of snickers echoed throughout the room. Instead of responding to her student, Narcissa merely turned to Kendra and dictated with a sneer, "Pedigree _is_ pure blooded despite questionable family line. The name Weasley does not retain a high status within our circles."

"Well Mrs. Malfoy, not only am I a Weasley, I also have some Prewett in me, a family that has not been oh so disgraced by your 'circles'. Furthermore, I need not remind you that I also descend from the highly esteemed House of Black through my grandmother," Ginny retorted with satisfaction.

A tense wave of silence washed over the room. Narcissa stared long and hard at her, with a cool but mysterious glint in her eye, lips thin. Ginny couldn't discern what the woman was thinking. She remained steadfast in holding a strong and determined glare at her teacher, although she showed signs of breaking such as the involuntary gulp she took. After some moments, Mrs. Malfoy broke her gaze and walked away, conjuring a clipboard and writing down her own personal notes.

_Great, I've bollocksed up my chance here and am going to get kicked out._ Ginny sighed wearily. She could kiss her quaint flat near Wizarding London good-bye. And she had just settled on the loveliest shade of blue for the walls.

Narcissa returned back to her place at the mantelpiece and re-addressed the group. "Miss Lamorak will now give out your housing assignments." Kendra started to make her way down the line handing small slips of parchment to each woman. "The women will be housed in one wing of the second floor with the men housed separately in a separate wing. Please make your way up and get acquainted with your roommate. Your belongings have already been sorted and brought up to the rooms."

Escorted by yet another house elf, Ginny walked into the large, expansive room that would be hers for the rest of the summer. She glanced around at her quarters: two king size beds comfortably aligned in the large but cozy room, there was two desks and dressers, as well as a communal sitting area. The room was absolutely lovely with the bright light coming in from the large window. At least even if she had to suffer, she would be comfortable while doing so. Ginny walked out onto the balcony and closed her eyes, pinching her nose. She let out a deep, long sigh.

"Well that was revolting and demeaning, wasn't it?" a voice called out from behind her with a chuckle. She turned around to see one of the girls she had seen during the inspection in the doorway of the room.

"I'm Lena, Lena Shafiq. I guess we're rooming together," she said, stepping in, setting her cloak down. Lena had large, friendly almond-shaped eyes and some of the most beautiful brunette hair Ginny had ever seen. It was such a dark brown that it looked almost black. Her thick mane wafted down in cascading waves down to the middle of her back. Her high cheekbones and elegant features were only highlighted by her olive skin. She was a bit taller than Ginny, and had graceful curves many of the other girls would kill for. In short, she was gorgeous.

At this point, both girls had made their way towards the sitting area of the room.

"I'm Ginny," the red-head said with a sheepish smile. "I'm glad I didn't get one of those cows out there we just encountered."

Lena laughed. "Tell me about it. This whole charade is kind of ridiculous."

"Say, you have a bit of a French accent. My sister-in-law is French as well. Did you happen to attend Beauxbatons?"

As they got to talking, Ginny learned that Lena was indeed a student of Beauxbatons. Though her family had Egyptian roots, her grandparents had decided to move to Wizarding Britain when many of their businesses were doing well overseas. Lena grew up in London as a child, but her parents had opted to send her to France to get a more well-rounded experience.

"I guess they like to think the French are more cultured and what not," Lena said with a wry smile. "However, when I came back to London town after being transferred from my potioneer job at L'apothicaire de Domnin, my parents wanted me to get re-acclimated into the local social circles here. I fought them off for a bit, but eventually conceded. I just figured it would be a good way to meet some of my peers, but this is definitely not my cup of tea."

Ginny let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin! I swear I thought I was the only one here who thinks this whole thing is asinine. I'm only doing so to appease my late grandmother's wishes." _And Galleons_, her conscious reminded her. She quickly pushed that thought aside.

A gong sounded, signaling the students to return back to the drawing room. As they made their way down, the fell into an easy conversation. Ginny felt a bit better knowing there was at least one normal human amongst these strange society creatures.

Narcissa had left the students to their own devices and let them mingle prior to dinner. It was a sort of cocktail hour, she surmised, although the alcohol was unfortunately missing. Ginny and Lena stuck to each other as they discussed the rest of the group they would be with during the summer. Naturally, the conversation turned to the prospects of men and the pickings were slim.

"Wow, there are very few… attractive guys here," Lena remarked, scrunching her nose.

"Well half of them are practically inbred," Ginny shuddered.

They continued to glance around until Lena nearly purred, "Well, well, well, what do we have over there? Those blokes aren't so bad."

Ginny grimaced when she saw who Lena was gesturing to. Figures it would be Draco Malfoy and his motley crew.

"Two out of three are rather lovely," Ginny agreed. She gave the trio a look over. There was Blaise Zabini, who looked just as handsome as ever with his tall frame. His pleasant features were pulled into a smirk as he was animatedly speaking to his friends. The third man of the group, she didn't recognize, was as tall as the others, but had a rather stocky frame. He looked more rugged than the other two, with sandy brown hair and friendly brown eyes.

"Come on, Ginny, you'd have to be blind not to think Draco Malfoy is attractive," Lena protested. Ginny said nothing but reluctantly agreed silently. Time had served Draco well, and as insufferable as he was, she had to admit it. His platinum hair was effortlessly coiffed back and to the side but still looked soft, as opposed to the slicked back hairdo he used to sport in his earlier years. His pallor, although light as ever, looked healthier than she had seen it in the past when it was lacking luster. His gray eyes were welcoming for once as he chatted with his friends. She noticed that he had filled out his tall, slender frame and still had the nice athletic build of a Seeker. His shoulders were broad and torso long. What was most alarming was the fact that Draco Malfoy's good looks were only amplified when he was laughing and smiling, as he was with his friends. She had never seen a pleasant expression on Malfoy's face and it suited him well. All in all, Ginny grudgingly decided that Malfoy was not ugly, that is, if one went for sharp and pointed features like his.

"I usually go for the tall, dark, and handsome. Not the tall, pasty, and cocky," Ginny commented, taking a long sip of her pumpkin juice. Lena merely snickered at the girl's delayed response.

They continued to giggle over Blaise and the other unnamed man from a distance. However, Ginny's Gryffindor bravery had vanished when Lena tried to drag her over to mingle with the men.

"Come on, Ginny! Let's at least go say hullo!" Lena grabbed Ginny's hand and started pulling her over towards them, despite Ginny's protests. She was about to enter the snake pit and the fierce lioness that normally pervaded from within had shrunken to a bumbling cub.

* * *

"Honestly, Draco, you need to get over Bridget. It's been over a month now and you're still pining for the ungrateful bint," Blaise told his best mate.

"Bugger off, Blaise," Draco scowled. "Besides, I've already moved on. On to Althea, and Isabelle, and…"

"Yup," Blaise smirked. "Totally unaffected."

A month ago, Bridget Latimer, Draco Malfoy's longtime girlfriend, abruptly broke up with him. She had just returned from a spring trip to the Bavarian Alps, and apparently had gotten very cozy with some German ponce. And the ponce decided to follow Bridget back to England, and she happily dumped Draco at the last charity event they had gone to. She walked away into the shining sunset with her thick-headed new man who likened himself to Thor. For all of his muscle and girth, he seemed incredibly slow.

In Draco's mind, he and Bridget were the perfect couple in image and on parchment. They both had aristocratic good looks, honorable lineage, and a vast amount of wealth and connections. He had imagined that they would be together forever. It had come to him as a shock when she decided to run off with that oaf; what did that guy have that Draco didn't? _Nothing, that's what. _

"Who the hell does she think she is, anyway?" Draco seethed. "There are plenty of girls out there, and l can shag the living daylights out of every one of them. Bridget Latimer is totally replaceable."

"Spare me the lecture about replaceable, because we're talking about Bridget Latimer here," the third man in their group, Maxwell Fawley, replied.

"Sorry, mate. He's right," Blaise agreed.

Maxwell scoffed, "Of course l'm right." He took a gulp of his pumpkin juice. "l mean, the girl's an institution in our society. Every woman wants to be her, and every guy wants to bang her."

Draco would never admit it but Maxwell was right. Bridget was tall, with flowing blonde hair, and a body that all of the other girls envied and tried to emulate. Her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief as she would make the rounds at parties, basking in all of the glory that was bestowed upon her. She set many of the trends in their social circles, and was the image of the perfect trophy wife.

Blaise added, "Basically, she's you... with knockers."

"Don't be daft," Draco countered. "The Bridget Latimer you just described is an illusion, a myth. You strip away all of that attitude and beauty charms, and all you have is a social climbing witch with an expansive wardrobe."

Maxwell rolled his eyes. "Give it up, Draco."

Draco's eyes searched throughout the room until he locked in on one figure. "Take, uh... Take her, for example," he pointed at a young witch in a lavender dress. "She's short, has a decent rack, and has a bit of that librarian look about her. But given the right clothes, the right boyfriend, and voila! In eight weeks, she'll be Belle of the Ball." Though there were no official titles given out during the Debutante Ball, the society pages had named one girl out of the lot as the "Belle of the Ball" for many years. She was the girl that had captured the attention of the most men that night and charmed all that she came across. It was considered an honor to be recognized as such, and a strong indicator that she was perfect wife material, inside and out.

"You're not actually serious, are you?" Maxwell looked at Draco quizzically, wondering where he could take this.

"As dragon pox."

"You're evidently delusional," Maxwell cried, incredulously. Shifting gears, he pondered a moment. Knitting his eyebrows, he said, "But, how about a chance to prove me wrong?"

"Blimey! Hold on," Blaise interjected, getting between the two men. "Max, Max, Max. The bloke's clearly mental right now. You're taking advantage of a friend in a very vulnerable state."

Draco batted his eyelashes and said sarcastically, "My, my, my. I didn't know you cared in that way, Zabini." Blaise gestured rudely to him.

"I'm being serious here. The bloke thinks he could do anything. Let him prove it. What do you say, Malfoy?" Maxwell taunted.

"A wager?" Draco asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," said Maxwell. "Unless, of course, you're too heartbroken."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, his brain was telling him not to do this. Max always came up with the stupidest bets and pranks, which usually ended up being more trouble than they were worth. But life had gotten even duller since Bridget left. It was the same thing over and over again: meet with the Board of the Malfoy Estate, go to dull charity balls and society galas, interact with attractive and vapid tarts, and so on. It had become so predictable, and he still hadn't found a direction of his own. Sure there was the Estate to maintain, but Draco also wanted to pursue a career. Although a career in what, he didn't know. He barely had the time to think about those things during his school days, and then after the war he had become the head of the house prematurely. It left Draco once again, with no clear direction in his life.

He had eventually come to terms that he wasn't even all that angry that Bridget had broken up with him. It was actually a relief when he reflected later. The relationship had become routine and stale; there was a small spark between them to begin with and what little was there had fizzled out. There was something missing though he didn't know what. He was angrier at the fact that anyone could reject _him._ How dare she have the nerve to do that! He was supposed to break it off with her, not the other way around. His anger brought about a lack of clarity, and that was what happened when he decided to say, "Just name the bloody terms," spat Draco, taking a big swig of his beverage.

"All right, it's simple," Maxwell explained. "I'll pick the bird, and you have eight weeks to turn her into the Belle."

Maxwell rubbed his hands feverishly, eager to get started. "All right. Let's go shopping." He laughed. "Oh, gods, this is going to be amazing."

The three men began to scan the room for potential victims. Blaise gestured at a girl near one of the expansive windows. "What about her?"

"Blaise, she's a straight minger!" Maxwell said in a scandalized tone.

The unfortunate girl looked like she was about to have an anxiety attack. She was squeaking erratically and hyperventilating. Her face was blotchy from being flushed, which only exacerbated her unfavorable features. The only thing that was keeping her together was a consoling friend, who looked a bit frazzled herself.

"You sure?" asked Blaise.

Maxwell asserted, "We can do better than her."

"And, let's be realistic," Draco cut in. "I need to live in this town. Plain, I can fix. I can't fix what's hereditary." He shuddered at the thought of the unattractive girl's hands on him.

Draco turned around and said, "What about her?"

He pointed to a tall woman with a brunette bob.

"Rectal archaeology. Very nice." Blaise nodded approvingly.

They continued circling the room for a bit longer when in the distance Maxwell heard, "No, Lena! I am not going to go over there! You'll only catch me next to Malfoy when all hell freezes over!" Maxwell whirled around to a woman trying to push a stubborn looking red-head in front of her, towards their direction. Unfortunately for the other woman, the red-head was vehemently not budging from her spot.

Maxwell's lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Gentlemen, we have a winner," he directed the other two with his head.

Draco's eyes widened and he nearly choked on his drink. Surely his mate couldn't be that barmy! "What, Ginny Weasley!? This is where I draw the line, Fawley!"

"Hey, a bet's a bet. Right, Blaise?" Maxwell nudged Blaise for assistance.

Blaise laughed and put his hands up as a sign of surrender. "This is between you guys."

Draco exhaled heavily. "Look, fat l can handle. Wonky breasts, bad personality, maybe some sort of fungus. Ill-mannered and being completely inaccessible is another story. Furthermore, her lot has practically been disowned; I honestly don't know what Mother was thinking letting the likes of her into the Conservatory. This society is beginning to go to the dogs."

"Well, she _is_ a pure-blood, like it or not," Blaise pointed out. _Thanks for stating the obvious, Zabini._ Draco snorted.

"Hey, mate, if l were you, l wouldn't be wasting my time," said Maxwell, "because according to my calculations you have eight weeks until the Ball. And if Ginny Weasley is going to be the Belle, l'd say you have got your work cut out for you. You better put that Malfoy charm on full blast."

"Look on the bright side mate, she's quite fit... even after all these years," Blaise commented, trying to improve the outlook of the situation.

Draco looked wearily at the insane witch that was surprisingly making her way towards them. He supposed Blaise _was_ right, but he always had a strange soft spot for the Gryffindor. Ginny was one of the prettier girls in their school, and captured the attention of many blokes in their later years. I seemed over time she had matured into a lovely woman. She had ample breasts, pleasing hips and a great bum to boot, but that dress she was wearing was not doing her any favors. Her hair wasn't as vomit-inducing like that brash orange the men in her family seemed to inherit, rather it had intense of hues of reds. It wasn't what he liked, but he supposed it was alright; it seemed soft, at least. Ginny wasn't as spotted as that ugly buffoon that was her brother, though she still had a sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks and trailed down her neck, disappearing underneath her collar. _I wonder if the trail continues, _Draco idly wondered. _Snap out of it, Malfoy! _

Unfortunately, the two witches had finally made their way across the room to the wizard. Draco sighed inwardly. He had to do his best to charm the knickers off the Weaslette, as much as the thought made him ill. There was no way Draco Malfoy was losing a bet; he had his honor to uphold after all.

"Hullo," the brown haired girl said brightly. "My name is Lena Shafiq," She shook hands with each of the men, and the shook it, exchanging pleasantries. Blaise, on the other hand, took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"Enchanted," Blaise drawled. Lena's cheeks flushed but her eyes were twinkling back into his. _Oh brother, he's already laying it on thick. _

Meanwhile, a sullen Ginny hung back, hesitant to make any moves. Maxwell nudged Draco to make a move, but he didn't budge either. His friend rolled his eyes and instead offered a hand to the youngest Weasley.

"I apologize on behalf of my insolent friend," Maxwell indicated with a nod of the head to Draco. "I'm Maxwell Fawley. You can call me Max, if you'd like," he gave her a rogueish smile.

"No need to apologize on behalf of Malfoy, Max," Ginny replied, sweetly. "I see he's just as rude as he was back in our Hogwarts days. Rather ironic as well, considering his mother is apparently the supreme authority on manners." She gave him a dirty look.

"You must be used to it Weasley, what with that riff-raff you call your family," Draco sneered. "It must have rubbed off on you after all these years. No wonder you need to be taught etiquette – you never have had any!" _So much for charming her._ He didn't care right now. Who was she to talk to him like this? No one, that's who. Bets be damned.

Ginny gave him an icy glare that eerily reminded him of his mother's own withering stares. He tried to keep his composure, unwilling to give in. "Still the pompous, arrogant, self-centered slimy prat, eh, Malfoy? You've become so predictable." Ginny turned on her heel and devoted all of her attention to Maxwell and Blaise, effectively shutting Draco out of the conversation.

Luckily for him, he was saved by the meal bell, indicating that it was time for dinner. The group parted ways, and Draco made sure that he sat far, far away from Ginny Weasley. Instead, he focused his attention on talking about last week's Quidditch match and other current events. The overwhelming situation went on the backburner as he enjoyed his potatoes and roast beef.

* * *

Dinner went on peacefully as the students ate merrily. Ginny welcomed the distraction, suddenly realizing just how hungry she was. While Ginny and Lena discussed their predictions for the school, Ginny couldn't help but notice that several of the girls kept sending her dirty looks. Some were whispering and gesticulating in their direction. She stood firm, refusing to give into the animosity.

Soon enough, the class filed back into the drawing room for final comments by Mrs. Malfoy. Ginny sighed. She was tired after this long, exhausting day of being around people she didn't like, and lessons hadn't even commenced yet.

Narcissa brushed past Ginny as she made her way through the crowd back to her spot in front of the mantelpiece. Amplifying her voice with her wand, she began, "This will be a dry institution for the most part." A panic of murmurs ran through the crowd. _I have to get through two months of this without the opportunity to be completely sloshed?! _At least she wasn't alone in her misery. Some of the wizards were giving each other looks of horror. Narcissa rolled her eyes and rapped her wand on the mantelpiece, calling the crowd back to attention.

"Yes, Mr. Nott, please pick up your mouth from the ground. You will not be inebriated through the duration of this program." Narcissa elaborated. "I will not have any of your minds clouded with spirits. Everyone must be on their toes and simply do their best. There will be occasions where alcohol will be served-" a few sigh of reliefs wavered through the students "-and in those instances it is permitted but otherwise cherish those last drops of wine you had at dinner."

Narcissa continued, "Which brings me to my next point, everyone has a curfew; there will be no 1 A.M. pub crawls on random nights when you are in this program or fraternizing with one another, if you catch my drift. We are here to hone all of your social skills in every aspect of your lives. We are here to promote good and proper marriages in order to continue to foster a successful group of witches and wizards that will be the leaders of your generation. We are here to preserve our kind. Mulieres Viginte Octo is committed to safeguarding the prosperity of the future."

Mrs. Malfoy switched gears. "After much deliberation, we have come up with the partners for your duration in the Conservatory. You two will be working together in many instances to practice your etiquette." Kendra eagerly handed her the clipboard, pushing her glasses back from the bridge of her nose. "Please come to the front when your name is called." Looking down at the clipboard, she began to go down the list.

Ginny's attention faded in and out as she waited for her name to come up. She cautiously hoped she would end up with Maxwell. He seemed friendly and his rugged looks didn't hurt either. That Scottish accent was also endearing. As if Narcissa had read her mind, Ginny heard, "Daphne Greengrass and Maxwell Fawley."

"Damnit," Ginny muttered. She was doomed to not enjoy herself, she had decided.

"…Lena Shafiq and Blaise Zabini," Narcissa called.

Ginny turned to see the eager face of Lena looking back at her. She was happy for her new friend. It was clearly evident that there was a spark between the two and that it was mutual. Although there was a small pang of disappointment that she wouldn't be able to be comforted by Blaise's smooth moves, she was still happy nonetheless. _At least one of us will be having fun._

"And finally, Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy."

Her stomach dropped. _Definitely doomed. _There were some snickers as the final partnership was called out. Ginny gapped, standing frozen in shock. Why on earth would Narcissa pair her up with her son? She surely knew of the intense Malfoy-Weasley rivalry that had only intensified over the years while she was at Hogwarts. The woman was off her rocker and Ginny intended to tell her just that, respectful or not.

After a few moments she had recovered from the temporary paralysis that had her feet glued to the lavish carpet, and she started making her way. She couldn't help but notice that several of the girls threw her dark looks. "If you want him so much, you take him!" She hissed at one of the onlookers.

She was cut off on her warpath to Narcissa when the man of the hour decided to bless her with his presence, looking cool and collected. Why wasn't he just as infuriated as her? If it was possible, he disliked her more than she disliked him. She crossed her arms and jeered, "I had to be paired with you. You'd be the last person on this planet if i could choose..."

Draco's eyes narrowed at the scorn in her voice. "Honestly Weasel, when will you realize you have no say in your life? You were born a Weasley, You were given those ridiculous freckles, that red hair, and you're poor. You have no say in anything."

"You really think that?" Ginny challenged, only to be answered with a smirk and a nod. "Well, I still have the ability to choose my actions." She raised her leg and stomped on Draco's foot, giving him a satisfactory grin as he cried out in pain. Whirling around, she waded through the couples and found Mrs. Malfoy.

Malfoy was like the fly that would not leave no matter how much she swatted at it. Limping behind, she heard him mutter, "Stupid girl, I think you scuffed my shoe! This is the finest Italian leather!"

Mrs. Malfoy saw the livid woman and limping son in her line of vision and excused herself from her conversation and turned to face the duo. "And what can I help you two with?" She asked carefully.

"Please, Mrs. Malfoy…" Ginny began.

"Madame," Narcissa corrected.

"_Madame _Malfoy," Ginny gritted her teeth, Draco rolled his eyes. "Please, you can't have us paired together. I'm sure you're aware of our… colorful history from Hogwarts."

"Do not question my judgment, Miss Weasley," Narcissa countered with finality. She walked away from the unlikely twosome, shutting down any room for further discussion.

Ginny gaped at the audacity of Narcissa. There was always room for discussion! She turned to see Draco smirking.

Her eyes narrowed and pointed at him, poking him in the chest. "You put your mother up to this, didn't you? You just wanted to make me miserable!" Ginny cried.

"Please Ginny, you give yourself far too much importance in my life," Malfoy replied, brushing off imaginary dirt from the spot where she kept poking him. "Do you really think I spend my days writing silly ideas in a diary all day? Oh wait, that's you."

"That's low, even for you!" Ginny cried, whipping out her wand. Manners be damned. She was going to hex Draco Malfoy into next Tuesday, and she was going to do it right now, right here. Eventually the small, logical side of herself took control and calmed her down. "…Eight… Nine… Ten," Ginny murmured, returning her wand to her pocket. Draco, who had braced himself in defense with his own wand, eventually lowered his as well, attempted to recollect himself back into his cool demeanor, waving a hand through his hair.

Stubborn as ever, Ginny tried to plead with Narcissa one last time. She found her again with Daphne and Maxwell, waiting patiently until they were done.

"Please Madame Malfoy, this will be disastrous for your son, for your Conservatory, and for your house," she implored, her eyes looking pleadingly at the older woman. Her big eyes usually worked on everyone.

Except Narcissa, that is. "I have my reasons, Ginevra, so please heed my instructions well."

To Ginny's surprise, Draco stepped in as well to support her cause. "Mother, you know about our… tumultuous past. This won't bode well for the papers or the reputation of the organization."

Narcissa gave her son a smirk that rivaled his own. "Those very papers are why you two are being paired together. A woman of Miss Weasley's standing in today's society will only improve your reputation with the general public," She then gave a stern look to the both of them. "Now, this is the end of this discussion, and I will not have either of you trying to question my authority again. You are all dismissed for the night so be sure to get a good night's rest."

As Mrs. Malfoy walked away leaving a glowering Malfoy, Ginny laughed at him, relishing in the realization that she had the upper-hand in the situation. "Why so sad, Malfoy? Evidently _you_ need me. Even your mother said it. I'll do my best, but even I cannot mend such a deep wound. It's more like an internal bleed."

"Please, I don't need your help," Draco scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Yes, you do," a new voice replied from behind him. Ginny turned to see Daphne Greengrass, another former Slytherin. Ginny remembered the blonde woman from Pansy Parkinson's gang of girls that were incredibly cruel to many of her friends and housemates.

"Besides, Draco, we all know that Weasley here is a charity case, Your mother is such a giving witch to have taken the time to do this for her," her voice dripping with malice as she placed a manicured hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Greengrass, you really do not want a piece of me right now," Ginny warned.

Daphne scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I have passed all of my N.E.W.T.s with flying colors and I was able to bypass a year of Healer School. I'm the first witch or wizard in almost thirty years to do this!"

"Like that matters," Daphne responded, rolling her eyes and moved closer to Ginny. "You weren't bred with this. Consider yourself honored to be with Draco Malfoy," she gave her a dirty look, demonstrating how unworthy Ginny was to be in his presence. Daphne patted Draco on the shoulder as a sign of sympathy before swaying away.

Draco sniggered at Daphne's words of advice. "She's right, you know. You should be honored to be paired with me. "

"Shove it, Ferret face," she muttered, turning to make her way to the staircase.

Draco quickened his stride behind her, catching up easily with his long legs. His footsteps fell into place with hers, and he said, "Look, I can help you survive this whole ordeal, like it or not."

Ginny whirled around accusingly. "You have some insane Slytherin motive, don't you?"

He chuckled, making his way up the stairs. "You have clearly spent too much time around Mad Eye Moody, Weaselette."

They reached the top of the case, and Draco audibly sighed as he made his way to the right to the men's quarters. "I cannot believe I have to share a room. My mother is insane. She is taking this school thing too much to heart."

Ginny rolled her eyes. Did he know how petty he sounded? "Come off it. One of these rooms could fit the whole Burrow's floor plan."

Draco blankly looked back at her.

"Oh, you're not even going to try to be humble?" She asked, with her hands on her hips. Malfoy sure had some nerve.

"Why… you're stating the facts. Why should I lie?" He asked logically, with a raised eyebrow.

Ginny threw her hands up in the air in defeat and huffed, "You're unbearable!" She turned without so much as a farewell, retreating to her quarters.

**A/N:** I hope you guys enjoyed that! I know there were a lot of introductions and explanations, but I had to set up the premise. It's such a challenge writing dialogue that sounds witty! Also, to the reviewer who pointed out the conversion of Galleons, I had used the Lexicon's calculator when I made that estimation, and went back and went through at least four different calculators and also calculated it myself. I got different results, so I'm going to go with the ones that gave me about $7,500 (U.S.). I didn't want Ginny to get so much money that she'd get super rich, but just enough to give her a kickstart! Hope that clears it up. Also, did my best to Brit-pick and grammar/spell check. **Please, please leave a review** on your way out, it makes my week!


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